


Knot of this World

by CGotAnAccount



Series: (Extra) Terrestrial [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Blades, Fluff, Heats, Husbands, Katt - Freeform, M/M, Sexy Body Modification, Shenanigans, and moms, mentions of Shiro, surprise mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28743852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: If someone had asked Matt two years ago what he thought he'd be doing after the war, he'd probably have said something like 'building super cool robots' or 'doing space shit with my super cool space husband' or maybe even 'sleeping for like eight years'.Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be curled up in the lap of his now unfairly tall husband, reading a book about galra puberty and all the fun shit that goes with it.
Relationships: Matt Holt/Keith
Series: (Extra) Terrestrial [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107269
Comments: 20
Kudos: 93





	Knot of this World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jimenko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jimenko/gifts).



> Thank you to KimMi who has the best prompts!!! <3

If someone had asked Matt two years ago what he thought he'd be doing after the war, he'd probably have said something like 'building super cool robots' or 'doing space shit with my super cool space husband' or maybe even 'sleeping for like eight years'.

Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be curled up in the lap of his now unfairly tall husband, reading a book about galra puberty and all the fun shit that goes with it.

Of course, two years ago he was also just finding out that Keith actually was an alien, and apparently a tiny baby in alien years to boot – which, in addition to forcing him to endure the side-eyes of all the blades for defiling their 'kit', meant that Keith wasn't done growing.

Anywhere.

And it's not like he was particularly tiny to begin with. The guy had put on a fair amount of inches and muscle by the time Matt had found him again in the first place – he really didn't need to keep growing. But apparently galra genes don't get that memo, so Keith continued to gradually creep up past him, until Matt looked over one day and his huge, buff, half galra lover is grinning down at him all fangy teeth and mischief because he can drop kisses on Matt's forehead without even having to stretch now.

And ain't _that_ some shit.

Shit that, fortunately for him, happens to be available to learn about fairly easily... the perks of marrying a member of the universe's most prolific breeders – which is apparently relevant to their life now that Keith gets a little leaky in more than one way.

Who'd have thought, two dicks between them and he can still potentially knock someone up... maybe. They're not actually really sure with the whole hybrid thing and all, even if Keith did go through his space-cat puberty and come out potentially more fertile than before. The book says that some species can 'be bred, but not breed', which is an extra gross way to put it and makes him think of mules and ligers. Maybe even space mules and space ligers... Keith is probably about as stubborn as a space mule either way.

Besides, with the amount of times they've fooled around since they were teenagers, he definitely would have knocked him up by now if it was possible. Plus, he's seen all those comic books where the hero goes through a radiation belt and comes back sterile and full of extra blood cells or whatever. His little swimmers probably got fried somewhere between Kerberos and the whole kidnapped by aliens ordeal anyway.

But if they didn't... that would be okay too. Keith is the kind of pretty that would be a crime to not pass on genetically, and he can already see little munchkins running around with their sandy hair and purple eyes... or their dark hair and mischievous Holt grins... sometimes he wonders if their ears would come out round or if they'd have the little pointed tips that Keith has slowly developed.

If it happens.

Maybe there's a little bit of hope in him there that it could. He hadn't really thought about it before, but now that the idea is out there he can't stop rolling it around in his mind. Keith would be such a good dad... sometimes when they're together on relief missions they'll make a point to stop and play with the local kids, building trust and goodwill, and it's just some special kind of devastating. The first time Keith had picked a kid up and swung them around making rocket noises was like a punch in the chest, only compounded by the way he carried home the sleepy toddlers when they were getting ready to depart.

It had been a fun flight back to the base – the door had barely sealed before Matt had him pressed against the bulwark, rutting his hips into Keith's like he hadn't had him just that morning, like he was the one in heat for once... which would be nice for a change, maybe he wouldn't get wrung out into a broken husk of a man by Keith's heats if he were a little less human himself. He wants to say they've been both a blessing and a curse, but he'd be a dirty fucking liar if he tried to say that he didn't enjoy every dehydrated, noodle-limb, wheezing moment of it.

Plus Keith's features are especially striking when he's in a heat frenzy, and he's just so fucking sexy with the stripes and the ears and the teeth... if Matt dies of a heart attack with the world's hottest alien bouncing on his dick, he's pretty sure that heaven would be a let-down afterward. The only problem is that he literally can't keep up, which is saying something because he's been the instigator of their relationship since that first time Keith crawled into his lap and gave him the green light. As far as Earthlings go, he'd probably rank himself somewhere around a dachshund on the list of 'animals most likely to hump Keith's leg'... but heat is something else entirely.

He's almost grateful it only happens seasonally, it's hard to watch Keith beg and writhe and fuck himself on Matt until he's teary-eyed with the need for relief – and it's even harder to keep up. They've even tried getting an assortment of weird toys – one of those tube things that inflate around the base of his cock, some rubber dicks the size of his forearms that would probably make him feel inadequate if Keith didn't look at them with so much disdain, and then there's this weird glove that's he's supposed to put on and jam his fingers up in there with his dick...

They haven't really gotten around to trying that one... it wasn't in the books anyway. Books – plural – because there are about eight million of them, all labeled soft nonsense like _Caring for Your Omega_ and _Blossoming Needs_... quite frankly if he finds one called 'How to fuck your space husband until he's incoherent and stops clawing at you' he's going to throw all his money at it and then cry in relief. So far the best advice he's gotten is about knotting – which Keith did _not_ appreciate him referring to as 'dick fisting'... even though that's pretty much what it is. And apparently that weird tube-y inflate-y toy thing is supposed to mimic it, and it's... _okay_. It seems like it helps a little, like maybe Keith is slightly less desperate for relief than he would be if it was just Matt's dick.

And isn't _that_ just great for his ego. It doesn't help that sometimes the other blades give him these back pats in the hallway every time they come back from Keith's heat leave. It's like sucking at t-ball all over again, except it's an eight foot galra who probably has a dick the size of his thigh telling him he'll get it next time, champ.

He's just really glad none of them have propositioned Keith about it, because he's pretty sure he couldn't physically fight any of them – and absolutely certain he'd have to try.

It comes to a head after the fourth heat, an entire year of mind-blowing sex that turns into fitful writhing cuddles by the end of the week as Matt tries desperately to keep his husband full and sated. Keith swears up and down that it doesn't bother him – that he's not unsatisfied at all, and that it would be fine if every heat for the rest of his life ends with him delirious and moaning as he essentially cockwarms his husband's poor abused man meat after the fifth round of the day... but it doesn't stop Matt from feeling bad.

It does help that he wakes up smiling through bleary eyes the morning after his heat ends, looking for snuggles as the last vestiges of his hormone wash slip away. Kolivan had even assured him that it's perfectly normal for a galra with any mate to become restless during their heats – which had been the world's most awkward sex talk with his husband's space-dad.

Still. He wants to do right by Keith, and watching the man he loves twist in the sheets with a hand between his own legs trying to tamp down some nameless ache doesn't feel like it at all.

It feels a little like failure, to be honest... and Holts don't fail.

They get smart about it.

So he evaluates his options... the toys help, but are ultimately not the solution he needs. He might be able to build some sort of fucking machine to keep Keith busy... except then he'd be jealous of his own robot, and what if Keith started to love it more than him...

No.

He needs to find some sort of way to knot Keith, like the book talks about. He's almost certain that's what's really getting his husband – when he fills him up and it all trickles out after, Keith lets out these mournful little chirps like someone's stolen all the joy from his life. It's both heartbreaking and kind of awkward, especially since Matt is usually still inside him at that point with a lap full of pouting, leaking, _grouchy_ half-galra. The worst is when Keith tries to lock his hips against Matt's groin, grinding their pelvic bones together like he could make some kind of vacuum seal between them.

It makes the most _disgusting_ sounds when he finally pulls out too.

But if he had a knot they could avoid the whole ordeal. He could just worship that ass, spill a little libation at the altar, and inflate his balls – or whatever they do – until Keith is happy. The book was kinda fuzzy on the details, but it sounds like a cake-walk, just plug him up like a bathtub and take a nap or whatever. Then when Keith is less feral he can just... unplug him? Or something. They'll figure it out... when he has a knot.

Because now that the seed of the idea has been planted... he's gotta have one.

“Hey baby?” he calls from the couch into the kitchen, too comfy to move from their makeshift blanket fort, “How devastated would you be if my dick was out of commission for a few days?”

“Heartbroken,” Keith grunts, because he's the best husband ever, “Why, are you planning on trying to wax again? I told you I don't mind the ball nest as long as it doesn't have woodland creatures living in it.”

Shuddering at the reminder, Matt shakes his head and crosses his legs just in case. “No... never doing that again.”

Keith hums and pads into the room, draping his arms over Matt's shoulders to bump his head and chirp curiously at him. This close to his heat he's always still a little more animalistic. It's adorable.

“I was thinking... what if I had a knot?”

The trill comes out before Keith can stop it, though he clamps his lips shut immediately, shrugging like he doesn't care either way.

“Why... not?” he cracks a smile instead, trying to distract Matt with terrible humor.

He loves him so much.

“I was just thinking it could be nice, right?” Matt presses on, tipping the screen of his tablet to show Keith the website for alien cosmetic surgical procedures. “I could be like you, kinda... we could have something to share, and there's healing pods on site there too, so there isn't really any risk...”

“You don't need to change anything for me.” Keith frowns, predictably ruffled that Matt would even mildly inconvenience himself for his benefit. “I love you just as you are.”

Time to change tactics.

“I want a balloon dick,” he blurts out as he tangles his fingers with Keith's, “don't you think that would be cool? It's like a dick, but with extra dick. Like when you put cheese on cheese... it can only improve it.”

Keith chuffs in his ear, amused and bewildered all at once as he lets Matt play with his hand. “A balloon dick... really?” He quirks an eyebrow at Matt, who is trying his damnedest to hold a straight face. “That's not even how it works.”

“How would you know?” Matt retorts, gaining steam now that he's clearly found his avenue, “You've only had boring human dick... what if we could be adventurous!”

“We could get one of those swings?” Keith tries again, but it's a weak suggestion, and judging by the smile creeping across his face he's clearly not opposed to the idea. “You don't have to undergo serious surgery for me.”

“It's for me and my ego,” Matt insists, placing his free hand on his heart with a cheesy grin that flashes his modified chompers, reminding Keith that he's technically already undergone a procedure for the same reasons, “you know how little I think of myself, poor Matt Holt, definitely not the best ever... besides, I already had my canines all pointy-fied for us.”

That one earns him a snort so ungainly that he feels like he might be the hot half of the couple, just for this blip of time.

“Yeah, okay...” The matching sharp grin aimed his way is fond, but clearly shows that Keith doesn't buy his shit for a single second. “Listen, if you want to do this... if _you_ , for you, not for me, not because you think you have to... if you _want_ to do this, go ahead.”

Matt can't help but drag Keith down for a kiss, grinning against his husband's lips even as he plans out the medical leave required to schedule the appointment.

“You're not gonna regret this, Kitten.” He pulls back to wiggle his eyebrows at him, reaching one hand down to cup his own crotch. “You just wait until I've got the dick-o-matic special delivery going on down here, I'm going to rock your world.”

“Oh my god, Matt.” Keith groans, swatting at his hand before climbing over the back of the couch to settle into the little fort. “Is it too late to take it back? I didn't know they'd steal your brain matter to inflate your dick.”

“Too late!” Matt crows, rolling on top of him to plant obnoxious kisses all over his face. “You already agreed, the Dickenator Five Thousand is coming to a hole _very_ near you!”

Needless to say, he does not get laid again that day.

He does, however, get as much dick in as he can in the weeks leading up to the surgery – despite the galra doctors insisting that it's practically a routine procedure at this point with the amount of cross-breeding in the universe... he can't be too careful. He knows too many people who have had things lopped off, and the idea of a robo-penis really isn't his flavor of cyborg fantasy. Especially since then he'd have to rely on Keith to keep him around for his dashing good looks and brilliant sense of humor alone.

From the looks of it, the doctor can tell what he's been up to. Probably the absolute carnage of love bites and bruises all over his body, like Keith was trying to give Ol' Reliable a final sendoff just in case he ends up rocking out of here like the ken doll that Shiro always wished he was.

Keith squeezes his hand in the chair beside him as the doctor hooks up the mask over his face. His husband is smiling, beautiful as always, even with the pink mist of gas that's starting to make Matt a little woozy. Someone should tell him how pretty he is...

“Aaaahhlluuvvuuuu-”

Keith's smile only grows wider as he leans in to press a kiss to his forehead. “Love you too, Matt... I'll see you when you wake up.”

“Kaaaaaaaay-”

And then everything is pink mist, and pink mist is so, _so_ sleepy.

The glimmering energy shield of the pod dissipates with the quiet crackle he's come to appreciate, even if the disorientation that follows it is as inconvenient as ever.

“Uuuughh.”

“Hey sleeping beauty.” A hand caresses his cheek, all rough calluses and gentle strokes as he makes himself squint up into the hazy lights above him. “How're you feeling?”

“Are you an angel?” Matt groans, bringing his husband into blurry focus with a pained smile. “Cause baby, your eyes are _celestial_.”

“There he is,” Keith chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to Matt's forehead, easing him up with an arm behind his back when he pulls away. “They said everything went perfectly.”

“Oh good... I really didn't want to have to convince you of the merits of my robo-dick.”

“We do those too, should you ever require one,” the doctor chimes in from the doorway where he's shuffling a stack of papers into a folder, “but I hope you'll be pleased with your new knot for the time being.”

Matt flashes him a thumbs up, shifting gingerly to swing his legs over the edge of the pod with Keith's help. “So I'm all good to swing the hammer then? We can inflate the ol' meat balloon?”

“ _Matt_ -” Keith hisses, covering his face with a hand as his shameless husband wobbles into his side, “I'm sorry about him... he must still be affected by the anesthesia.”

“Of course, it's to be expected.” The doctor tilts his head, suppressing a smile as he hands over the folder. “You'll find the aftercare instructions inside... of course the pod has healed the incision already, but we've found a bit of fatigue is to be expected. Try not to tax him too badly in the next movement.”

“Will do, thanks.” Keith takes the folder with a polite nod and leads his unsteady burden out through the gleaming hallways toward their shuttle. “Does walking hurt at all, sweetheart?”

Matt beams up at him, loving how Keith breaks out the pet names when he's being all doting. “If I say yes will you carry me?”

Keith's laugh rings across the courtyard outside the office, drawing stares from people passing by – not that Matt can blame them. Not only is he the famed black paladin of Voltron, and one of the leaders of the Blade of Marmora... he's just really fucking pretty.

“Matt, I'll carry you anywhere.”

Especially pretty when he's shifting his weight and hauling Matt into his arms like he doesn't weigh a thing, cradling him to his chest so he can press a kiss to his hair. It's pretty much the best thing ever, especially since his whole crotch kinda feels weird and if he's left to his own devices he might end up walking like a cowboy, and that's the last thing he needs someone to catch on film and send to Pidge or Shiro.

Really, this is for the best.

Looping his arms around Keith's neck, he winks up at his noble steed. “Thank you, darling... now take me home so I can ravage you with my new ass-blaster.”

The snort is, once again, aggressively derisive.

“Sorry, love.” Keith smirks down at him and taps his ass with the folder full of papers still clutched in one hand. “Doctor's orders, you're in timeout today.”

“Not even a fondle?” He pouts, drooping dramatically in his husband's arms. “I went through all this trouble that I didn't feel and can't remember, and I don't even get to test drive the stallion.”

“Not if you keep using shitty metaphors like that.” Keith shifts to kiss his nose as he hauls him up the ramp to their little shuttle and settles him into the co-pilot's chair like a doll. “If you're lucky I'll still rock your world tonight, there's nothing wrong with my dick.”

“This seems a little unfair,” Matt grumbles halfheartedly, like getting railed into the mattress is such a hardship.

“Think of it as a last hurrah,” Keith offers as he settles into the pilot's seat, all cocky grin and splayed thighs as he sends them airborne in a smooth glide, “I'm gonna want that dick all to myself, right? So you should take what you can before I become your pillow princess.”

Now it's Matt's turn to snort as he crawls across the console between them and settles himself in Keith's lap. “I don't think anything in the world could turn you into a pillow princess... you try to ride me into the mattress half asleep.”

“It's called being proactive,” Keith winks as he lets his hand graze up the inseam of Matt's pants, rubbing gently at the bulge there before pulling the zipper and sliding them down. The lube comes out of the console in a fumble of hands, and it's not long before Matt's 'last hurrah' has him squirming on his husband – who just refuses to use the autopilot – as he navigates them home.

Needless to say, by the time they've landed back at their little house he's about ready to sink his extra pointy teeth into Keith's neck until the man finally gives him some semblance of relief – and it doesn't help that Keith absolutely refuses to touch Matt's cock, claiming that it's too sensitive.

Well jokes on him, 'cause it's been saying hello for the duration of the flight, and if he really wants to make sure Matt Jr. isn't being overtaxed they should probably end this pretty quickly.

“I think it's cute that you think I'm going to let you get off at all.” Keith winks at him as he powers the shuttle down and wraps his arms around Matt's waist, anchoring him down to keep him from squirming. “Maybe I just want you to keep me warm for tonight until I can get a taste of my new present.”

“You said it wasn't for you,” Matt whines, abandoning all semblance of dignity as he tries to make Keith fuck up into him. “This isn't fair.”

Wicked teeth graze his ear as Keith leans down to whisper, “I lied.”

Then he's digging his claws into Matt's hips and rolling him in his lap, grinding deep without respite or friction where he's dripping.

“Baby, please-” Matt's legs twitch where Keith has them spread and draped over his knees. He's almost desperate enough to start stroking himself off, but he knows Keith is faster and his hands would be pinned in an instant. At least now he can use them to grab a fistful of silky hair and tug Keith down into a biting kiss.

It doesn't bring relief, but the nip he leaves on his husband's lip is a petty enough complaint to earn him a swat to the hip.

“I thought you were being good,” Keith chuckles, dragging his tongue across the sore spot as Matt pants and squirms, “but you're still just a brat.”

He's not wrong, Matt is feeling particularly petulant after sitting so well for so long and getting so little for it in return. After all, he deserves to be pampered, he just had surgery and didn't even get a sticker or a lollipop for his trouble.

“I just wanna finish and go snuggle and eat ice cream,” he grumbles, though the effect is dampened by the whine in his voice.

“Fine.” The hips under his shift, and then Keith is laying him back on the console and rocking into him harder, playing with just the head of his cock as it leaks all over his fist. “But we've gotta be careful... I'm not keen on breaking it even if I already bought it.”

Matt's certainly not going to argue with that – not when he's finally getting the friction he needs, and he's been so close for so long that it hardly takes any time at all for him to spill all over himself with a whimper, leaving Keith to groan out his own end into his neck. It's nice – really nice... except...

“Wasn't it supposed to like... balloon?” he asks, tugging on Keith's wispy loose hairs for attention. “It didn't feel balloony.”

“I told you that's not how it works,” Keith grunts as he pushes himself off Matt's chest and pulls out gingerly, grimacing at the mess that drips onto the floor of the shuttle. “There's specific conditions that knots fill out under... that's not really one of them.”

“I didn't read the terms and conditions, so they don't apply to me.”

Keith sighs and grabs the blanket they keep in the storage bay to wrap around Matt's waist before hauling him back into his arms to carry him inside. He might not say it out loud, but Matt is pretty sure that the resigned look on his face means that his husband knows he's right... but he'll take the free ride either way.

As it turns out, the terms and conditions might apply to him whether he reads them or not.

“I don't get it, how do I make it go?” he grumbles, mostly to himself as Keith does his best to smother his grin into a coffee cup. It's been three days of fondling himself at the kitchen table, on the couch, in the shower, and everywhere in between – and still nothing. “Is there like a secret button or something?”

“I dunno, Matt,” Keith replies far too innocently, “didn't you talk to the doctor before the surgery?”

Keith knows damn well he didn't. Matt's a genius, he doesn't need a doctor to explain his own dick to him, of course he waved off the 'here's how to rub and tug' lesson from a medical professional. It's his own dick for fuck's sake, how hard can it be to get it to work?

“Must've forgotten about it with the anesthesia.”

“Good thing we have this nice packet of papers here that explains how everything works then,” his husband drawls, idle as a viper as he wiggles his fingers at the packet that Matt's already tried to throw away twice. “I know how much you love reading instructions.”

Matt squints at him, still rolling the extra flappy bit of skin at the base of his shaft around in his fingers. Keith just smirks back, all... smirky. Like he knows things and isn't helping. Not that he needs help.

“I'll get it,” he sniffs, surreptitiously pinching at the skin and only grimacing a little.

Keith's smirk widens by another inch. He's not even pretending to drink his coffee now... just using it as an excuse to watch Matt suffer.

Joke's on him, the longer it takes to figure out how the hell this knot shit is supposed to work, the longer he's going without an ass-plug. After all, it's not like the whole dick is broken, he can still get off fine – even if it seems like there's a hell of a lot more of a splash zone than there used to be.

“Hey, maybe it's like one of those old school airplane life vests...” He blinks up at Keith all doe-eyed and innocent as he aims the tip of his dick at him. “Wanna blow the end and see if it inflates?”

The bark of laughter that explodes from Keith sends coffee spraying all the way across the table.

“You're the worst,” Keith sputters as he sets his mug down and hops off his stool, rounding the table to wrap his arms around Matt where he's still flopping aimlessly at his dick. “Just read the pamphlets, please?”

“Fine.” The agreement is petulant, but it's there – and it earns him a kiss to the nose as Keith grins at him. “But for the record, this is needlessly complicated.”

“Most things in life are,” Keith agrees, nuzzling their faces together before dipping low to press a kiss against Matt's bite mark. “But we've always been easy... it'll work itself out.”

Matt can only sigh and sink into his husband's embrace, tucking himself away for later when he has to do his stupid dick-homework, guaranteed to make sure he never gets a boner again after reading it.

He gives it a day or two, when Keith is out of the house and can't send him those little smirky looks. The folder has been sitting on the table all innocent, unmoved from where Keith had left it for him – and to his credit he hasn't mentioned it since either, content to let Matt stew over it until he can't put it off any longer. His husband is good like that, knowing that Matt's knee-jerk reaction is to dig in his heels when pushed, even when it's for his own good – even coming from Keith.

Which is why he's doing this in the first place, he loves him more than anything else in the universe, enough to get a few teeth filed all pointy and his dick cut open.

Now he just needs to read these damn papers to find out where they've hidden the inflatable pull-tab.

The first few pages are standard disclaimers about the potential risks of the procedure and side effects – apparently his dick could explode or something, whatever – and then there's a paragraph that's he's pretty sure is swiped directly from those old Earth pills, warning him about having an everlasting boner that makes his heart explode.

Cheery stuff.

Flipping through the pages with a huff, he finally stumbles on a section that looks promising, 'triggering inflation'... except there's no diagrams, not really. Just a huge list of hormone reactions depending on species and a chart with potential interactions, and all the way down at the bottom he finds humans.

“Reaction dependent upon hormonal influence by partner?” he mutters aloud to himself, thoroughly disgusted by the lack of useful information. “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

The packet gets tossed into the trash with a well earned scoff. At least he won't have to lie when he tells Keith he looked at it.

Of course, later when he does tell Keith, his husband looks at _him_ , with that smirk.

“Did you read what that means?” Keith asks him as he toys with a lock of Matt's hair, grinning up at him like a Cheshire cat where he lays sprawled across Matt's chest.

“No, cause it was all stupid,” Matt grumbles and gives in to the urge to smooth his hands up and down Keith's back until the purr kicks up into a rumble. “I don't see why it has to be so obtuse about it... I don't even really know what hormones you have going on in there now anyway.”

“Well, my heat is in a week or so,” Keith reminds him, as if Matt doesn't have the entire week highlighted on the calendar with a whole bunch of hearts and flame doodles. “I'm sure you'll find out then.”

There's an uncomfortable fluttering of unease as Matt thinks about it, willing his little soldier to perform admirably in the line of duty. What's the point of getting a weird extra skin sack thing going on down there if all it's going to do is make it look kinda like he shoved a sock down his pants?

Fortunately for both of them, they find out when his body gets with the program immediately.

“Holy _fuck_ -” he wheezes out as Keith bounces on him in a frenzy. The new glands around the base of his cock feel like they're on fire in the best way. Keith had already spent the first fifteen minutes of this heatwave nuzzling and licking at them, insisting that he could smell his 'alpha' now, whatever the fuck that means – and by the time he had crawled on top and sunk himself down onto Matt, he was already dripping like Matt's rarely ever seen from him before. The whole thing has him feeling a little delirious, the heady smell of sex in the air making his head spin as he does his best to keep up with the panting hellcat that's writhing on top of him.

And then Keith gets that gleam in his eyes... the one that lets Matt know he's about to get a bite taken out of him in the very best way.

“C'mon, Kitten,” he grunts, baring his neck as Keith flashes his fangs in a breathless plea, “you know you want a nibble.”

Keith's on him before he can hardly blink, teeth parting the scarred skin of his neck like a knife through butter as he ripples around him – except this time there's a surge of heat like he's never felt before, lancing down his spine and making his toes curl as he digs his fingers into Keith's hips.

“Oh fuck, _oooh_ -” It doesn't let up, this bubbling need, like his skin is too tight and he's going to lose his mind if he doesn't claim Keith _right now_. He can feel mouth pooling with saliva as Keith pulls back to look at him, half-feral as he offers his own neck.

Matt lunges, jaw clamping down as he yanks Keith onto his cock and grunts into the skin, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he needs... he _needs-_

Keith's warbling trill sets off about eight different alarms in his brain, none of which make any sense beyond the need to fuck him, to _fill_ him, until he's sated and sleepy and _his._

And then his brain melts out his ears in the face of overwhelming pleasure, a riptide of sensation that drags him under until all he knows is the clutch of Keith around him and the taste of him on his tongue.

But Keith is purring.

Not writhing, or whining, or begging him to go again...

Keith is _purring_ , in his _heat._

Matt cracks open an eye he hadn't realized he'd shut to find his husband sprawled on his chest, cheek smooshed against his pecs as he drools his bliss. It's so fucking cute – but more importantly, he's pretty damn sure they're stuck together... which means-

“I think it worked?” he croaks out quietly, trying to avoid startling Keith who looks like he might even start dozing any minute. Keith nods mutely into his chest, nuzzling in with a breathy rattle. His claws are out and kneading into the bedding and Matt's shoulder, but he's so used to the sting by now it barely registers.

Until he tries to shift his hips and those claws puncture in, yellow eyes cracking in a baleful scowl.

“Sorry, sorry-” Matt raises his own hands defensively before settling them onto Keith's hips to keep them firmly together. Apparently stuck means _stuck_. “You're good, just sleep.”

Keith huffs at him, nose wrinkling at the puddle of drool he's laying in, but settles back down to continue his purr-cuddling. The kneading continues for a good five or ten minutes where Matt nearly dozes off – until the most unsettling sensation of.... dripping? Oozing? Whatever it is, it's gross, and it's trickling onto him, and he's about to mention it when Keith lets out a mournful little chirp and wriggles himself free with this _disgusting_ sucking sound.

And then he's just dripping. All over Matt's lap.

“There's no way that all came from me,” Matt laughs as Keith grabs the nearest sheet to wipe himself with. “That's like a gallon of spunk.”

Keith huffs a laugh, clearly coming back to himself between waves – and far faster than usual. “I think it's about seventy-thirty you... but I was a mess beforehand.”

“You're you!” Matt crows, leaning up to cuddle Keith close. Heats are great and all, but he really does miss his husband's sexy, sexy brain when he's all feral. Not to mention he's a lot more fun to talk to when he's actually talking back. “I love you when you're you.”

“Thanks, darlin,” Keith drawls as he stretches out his spine and gives his hips an experimental wiggle. “I prefer being me too.” He casts a sly look down to Matt's lap where his cock is still so red it's nearly purple, and slightly swollen. “Guess your surgery worked just fine, huh?”

“Baby, I will get my dick shish-kababed for you every week if this is what I get for it.” He shakes his head in disbelief and fondles himself curiously. “I guess it can smell you even when I can't.”

Keith's bark of laughter is sweet in Matt's ears, especially when he curls in close to revel in the skin contact that's always so important to him during his cycles. “Don't worry, I don't really know what I smell like either, we can be useless humans together.”

“Awww,” Matt coos at him and strokes a thumb across Keith's cheek bone, noting the way his hips are starting to twitch restlessly again. “I love being useless with you, Kitten...” He lets his fingers creep down to pull at one cheek, dragging Keith back into his lap to grind them together. “Now, let's see if we can make it reek in here enough for my terrible nose.”

Their quarters are a miasma of sex-funk by the time the week ends – worse than any cadet barracks at the Garrison could ever be – and Keith couldn't look more pleased with himself.

Of course, Matt asks Shiro to swing by and drop off the paperwork he's missed – just for the pleasure of watching his face turn vaguely green when the door opens and the wafting stink hits him full in the face.

“Augh, _god-_ ” He coughs once, then half gags as he throws the folder at Matt and backpedals to a safer distance. “What did you two _do_ in-” Regret dawns on his face immediately, and he cuts himself off as Matt opens his mouth to respond. “-wait, no! No. I do _not_ want to know. Just.... take a bath or something before you come back.”

Matt grins and flashes him a thumbs up, not bothering to mention that he's already showered twice today and it's barely done any good... especially since Keith had jumped on him immediately both times, smearing his mouth all over Matt's neck before slipping lower.

And here he'd been thinking this whole knot thing was supposed to satisfy him – not make his husband utterly insatiable for it all the time.

What a hardship.

Though by the fifth round they're technically post-heat, and both starting to chafe a bit.

“Do you think you're good now?” Matt wheezes, legs jelly and dick sore where it's plugging up a preening Keith. “I think I'm one big cramp.”

Keith looks down at him, considering as he gives his hips a little wiggle, and Matt _swears_ he can hear him sloshing. “Yeah, I think I'm good.” He lowers himself down to lean his forearms on Matt's chest, straining where they're still quite stuck. “Thank you for the gift, sweetheart.”

“Here for you, doll.” The finger gun he shoots Keith's way is wobbly at best, but he's a dehydrated husk of a man and the stink is beginning to be a little much even for him. “Do you think we can open the windows now?”

Three or four contemplative sniffs later, Keith shrugs.

“I suppose so... we can always make it smell like us again later.”

“Like us?” Matt snorts, rubbing circles into Keith's hips with his thumbs as he shakes his head. “Kitten, it smells like a brothel in here. Like we've been bathing in splooge – or baking used condoms in the oven or something.”

“No condoms,” Keith grumbles, lowering himself flat so he can press himself fully against Matt.

“That's your take away...” It's a lost cause, Keith always has been territorial in the very best way, always making sure to rub all over Matt before he leaves for whatever they're doing that day... apparently now that he has a knot he's even more valuable for safeguarding. “Alright... how about you go run a bath when this baby comes unstuck and I'll strip the bed, open all the windows, and join you?”

Keith's purr kicks up in earnest, hips wriggling as he snakes his arms up to loop around Matt's neck. “Sounds perfect.”

Apparently, airing out their room and having a good solid scrub down isn't nearly enough to hide a solid week of sex funk from his husband. It's almost funny in a way – he knew he was staking a claim with the whole dump n' seal business, but he didn't expect the other galra on the base to be so... nicely weird about it? In a good way. He thinks.

It starts with Kolivan, who finds him after the morning blade's all-hands meeting.

“Holt.”

“Augh!”

Matt whirls around at the sudden voice behind him, juggling to catch the datapad that he'd almost flung to the floor. Kolivan plucks it from the air without a twitch of expression and hands it back to him.

“Do not worry, fatigue and dulled senses are common after a successful heat,” the giant galra informs him solemnly, inclining his head in respect, “I wanted to be the first to congratulate you... it is an honor for our organization.”

“The uh... the successful heat?” Matt blinks at him as the words trickle past his work brain-filter. Do most people's bosses come congratulate their subordinate's husband for getting dick surgery to creampie them better? Did he accidentally complete some sort of blade trial by getting stabbed in the crotch? “Uhh... yeah, I mean... thanks? It's um... an honor for me too... to have Keith?”

Kolivan nods at him, _smiles_ even, and reaches out to clap a hand on his shoulder in a way that Matt's pretty sure he's picked up from Shiro's golden boy routine. “May your family prosper.”

“Thanks, man. Er... sir. Yours too?”

“Perhaps someday, should the Commander be agreeable.”

And then he winks. He _winks._

If Matt hadn't seen it with his own two eyes he'd never believe it, but Kolivan is already striding away before he can sputter out anything more than a confused squeak.

Keith makes a similar noise through a mouthful of noodles when Matt finds him for their lunch date.

“I think Kolivan wants to be your dad.”

After the initial gurgle-choking, which doesn't sound far off from the previous week, Keith glares at him with watery eyes. “What the fuck?”

“I dunno.” Matt shrugs, reaching over to swipe the orange off Keith's plate and replacing it with his own pickle that he doesn't like. “After your meeting he came to the lab and was all 'Great heat Matt, good fuckin', best of luck with the fam, hope to fuck your husband's mom someday!'”

“He did not say that,” Keith grunts, rolling his eyes as he chomps the pickle in half, “I think he's just glad I'm not all grouchy coming back this time... no offense, before was great and all-”

“Nah, I get you,” Matt cuts off his husband's apologetic rambling and reaches down to cup himself with a wink, “you don't have to say it, I know I rocked your world.”

Keith's post-heat elbows are just as sharp as his pre-heat elbows.

“Hey!” Matt pouts at him, rubbing at his ribs as he scoots closer so Keith can't get as much elbow velocity on the next hit. “You can't abuse me, we're in love.”

“Don't I know it,” Keith sighs, which would almost be offensive, but he's smiling as he shakes his head. “I think half the room gave me shit at the meeting today, I've never seen so much eyebrow wiggling in my life... and most of them don't even _have_ eyebrows.”

“Trolling is universal,” Matt agrees, having noticed a few aimed at himself today. “It'll probably ease up once there's uh... a little less Holt juice all up in there.”

Keith's face curdles like mess-hall milk in the sun.

“How about we call it literally anything else... and don't ever talk about someone smelling it in me ever again.”

Matt shrugs. “Fine, no mention of my baby-batter as your permanent perfume.”

Turns out Keith's elbows hurt just as much up close.

Two weeks later and the deluge of congratulations have only accelerated – which is weird as hell, cause there's no way they can still smell him on Keith. They even tried going without sex for like four whole days – which is way too long when your husband is sexy as hell and sleeps nude – and it didn't seem to help at all anyway.

Regris still gives him that galra-bro head nod every time he sees him, like a cross-cultural fistbump that screams 'good job tapping that ass.' It might just be the coolest he's ever been to a bunch of big beefy dudes, and all he had to do was be the luckiest human to ever accidentally space-marry someone. It also helps that he utterly adores that someone, and would kill for that someone, or die for that someone... but still, being Keith's favorite sex toy is no easy task. He's glad someone recognizes how hard his life is.

Pun _fully_ intended.

It is kinda weird though, especially since he hasn't knotted at all since Keith's heat, even when he rubs his mouth all over the scent glands down there. So far they've just kinda shrugged it off, figuring that it's something to do with the influx of Keith's specific heat hormones that triggers it, and in the meantime...

Maybe it's not even Keith they're smelling?

He tried floating the idea surreptitiously to his husband over breakfast, that maybe his humongous schlong makes such an obvious bulge now that the other galra could tell just from his strut that he's packing the Keith-Destroyer Five-Thousand.

Keith flung a glob of oatmeal at him.

But he's probably just mad that everyone knows how awesome Matt's surgery went and he can't keep the secret all to himself – which is valid, he'd be pretty annoyed if everyone else knew the exact curve of Keith's ass, or the cute little mole on his left butt cheek, or the freckles on his hip... it's bad enough that the blade suits are so tight that people barely have to use their imagination when Keith leads the physical demonstrations.

Though oddly enough he's been sidelined for those lately, and he is _not_ happy about it. Which is understandable, since taking a dick really shouldn't disqualify him for physical labor. Matt even offered to go down there himself and give a detailed account of just how capable Keith was of kicking his ass post-sex, but the scowl Keith had given him was just a shade from soul curdling.

Needless to say, Matt did not defend his husband's honor, so everyone still thinks he needs to sit on a donut or something... even his mom, which he did not see coming. Of all the people to come congratulate him for fucking Keith into a drooling puddle, Krolia was so far from his mind that he nearly fled in terror out of instinct. Nothing in his life prepared him for a galra goddess who could snap him in half with her pinky gushing over how happy they've made her, and how proud of them she is.

He knew galra as a species were freaky and all, but _damn._ That was a little much even for him.

And then, to make things even worse, his _own_ mother betrays them.

Keith comes back to their quarters with the look of horror that every teenager knows – the look Matt recognizes from his own face when his mom walked in on him charming the one-eyed snake in middle school.

“Matt,” Keith chokes out, stumbling over like a man shell-shocked before collapsing into their living room chair. “Your mom just compared us fucking to _Pidge._ ”

“She what?!” Matt squawks, dropping his tablet with a clatter as his brain tries frantically to erase any thought of Pidge as anything but a robot. “What the fuck.”

“I know!” Keith's lip curls as he sticks his tongue out and gags. “She was all 'oh, I'm so happy for you two, what a blessing... I didn't see it coming, but I had given up on Katie completely!' - it was so _awkward.”_

“What does she mean, didn't see it coming?” Matt huffs, vaguely offended at the insinuation that everyone is surprised he can sling dick with the best of them... and from his mother! “We've been fucking for years... _years_ , Keith... you don't even know any other dick. I'm literally the best you've ever had.”

“And the worst,” Keith points out unhelpfully as he continues to shudder in the chair. “But did she really have to bring Pidge into it? I get girl power and all, but wishing your kid gets stuffed with a knot? That seems kinda...”

“Super fucked up?” Matt nods, making a mental note to check in with Dad to see if they can restrict Mom's internet access. “Or, maybe she wants her to get some freaky alien dick surgery too? That's the last thing I need... Pidge getting an attachable one that's bigger than mine just to gloat.”

“She would.” Keith nods, nose wrinkling at the thought as he cuts a judgy look over at his husband. “And your mom called it a blessing Matt... a _blessing._ Like your dick is divine or something... is Colleen into some freaky shit I don't know about? How would she even know what it's like to take a knot?”

“Gah! No!” Matt claps his hands to his ears and throws himself from his seat, stumbling his way to the bedroom to escape the line of intrusive thoughts. “No more talking!”

They share a very comforting platonic cuddle that night, and try not to think about the things they've heard.

It only gets worse from there.

Kolivan has taken up an interest in knitting of all things – the needles are comically tiny in his huge mitts as he clicks away during meetings. He's been hovering around Keith lately, they all have really, but Kolivan has presented him with several pairs of socks and a hat that looks like it was made for an Arusian. Keith thanks him of course, Kolivan had specifically asked him about the importance of colors to humans when he made them and clearly put some thought into it, but Matt can't help the fit of giggles every time he sees them.

“Aww, Keith... look, your giant galra daddy thinks you're still a tiny baby-size blade.”

“Shut up,” Keith grumbles as he slides the socks onto metal handles of their pots and pans like a makeshift potholder. “You know he still calls me kit... he probably can't even tell the difference between my size and Shiro's from way up there.”

“That's fair though,” Matt shrugs and stretches the little hat around the bottom of their wobbly chair leg. “If I were the size of a mountain everyone else would probably look about ant sized, I guess.”

And really, the idea is cute, even if it's a little more than infuriating for Keith that everyone is still, nearly a month and a half later, hovering around him like taking Matt's knot irrevocably broke something in his poor skinny half-human hips.

Which is ridiculous, cause his man has an ass that doesn't quit. Matt could paint the world map on that baby and still have room for a few new continents. Keith could take him, break him, and remake him without straining a single muscle. This whole thing feels a little bit like the creepy 'lost your virginity at prom' thing when they were kids – except if your parents and friends were in the cheering section one car over, and then bought bumper stickers to commemorate it.

Even Shiro had caught Keith's ire – something that Matt had been pretty sure was impossible to do – but the poor guy showed up with a little box of 'self care day' gifts, probably picked out by Lance, and a little congratulatory card, and Keith looked about ready to go apocalyptic.

Fortunately for both of them, he'd settled for throwing his hands in the air and stomping back to their bedroom, leaving Matt and Shiro to shrug at each other in his wake.

“Hormones?” Shiro had asked, offering Matt the little gift basket to tuck aside for Keith when he's feeling less prickly. “Krolia said he might be a little touchy about it.”

“Well, I mean... he's not made of glass you know... he can take a pounding.”

Shiro's eyebrows had jumped to his hairline. “You're a lot more uh... chill about this than I would have expected.”

That one had rankled.

“Shiro, it's a minor procedure... people choose to go through with it all the time, and there are pods now – it's not like anything was going to happen, and we're two consenting adults living our best lives. He's fine with it, I'm fine with it... everyone else is just being weird, frankly.”

The squint he had gotten in return was a long searching thing before his friend had shrugged and turned toward the door. “I suppose you're right... tell Keith congratulations again, and that I hope he feels uh... better?”

“Will do, Shiro... thanks.”

Keith does end up keeping the bath bombs _and_ the lotion, though he'd never admit it to anyone but Matt.

He'd also never admit to the way he's been subtly frowning at himself in the mirror lately, twisting this way and that until Matt's pretty sure he's going to make them both dizzy.

“Does my ass look bigger to you?” he asks out of the blue one day, startling Matt's brain into a five alarm fire before he can process the danger he's in.

“Your ass looks like a four course meal, darling... the bigger the feast, the better.”

The truth is, of course, the wrong answer – even if he doubles down on it later that night and eats his words, and his husband. It's almost worth the crick in his neck that requires him to wear a soft brace the next day.

The blades have a field day with that one, of course. But at least if they're picking on Matt for his very human frailty they're probably not picking on Keith for his own.

That is, of course, until Keith is actually any sort of frail.

Matt doesn't think too much about it when Keith groans as he staggers from their bed that morning, he's never been an early riser, and... not that he'd ever say it, but Keith _has_ been a little more sluggish than usual since his last heat. He doesn't think it's from taking the dick either – Keith has never been delicate in that department, but he's kinda worried now. Maybe he's accidentally fucked him all up hormone-wise... or maybe he _did_ dislocate a hip or pinch a nerve or... anything that might explain why he looks like death warmed over.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asks as he pads over, stopping to rub his husband's back where Keith has braced himself against the counter. “Maybe you should call Kolivan and-”

“M'fine,” Keith grunts, ever stubborn, even though the words send a ripple of a shudder through his body, like he might heave at any minute. “Just... just gimme a minute-”

“It's okay if you're not,” Matt assures him and brushes the sweaty hair off his neck and forehead, worry kicking up a notch at how clammy Keith's skin is. “You're the strongest man I know... sometimes even superheroes get sick, right?”

That at least earns a huff of laughter, though it looks like Keith regrets it immediately as his face turns vaguely green. “Oh _no_... I think I'm gonna-”

Matt's got him in his arms and whisked off to the bathroom before he can heave all over the counters, mentally high-fiving himself for still doing the occasional push-up to make his heroics possible... but it doesn't make Keith's retching any easier to bear witness to. At least he can hold his hair for him and stroke down his shuddering back.

“Sweetheart, _please_ -” Matt begs him, feeling completely helpless as Keith pants and groans, “let's just take the day off, okay? We can tell Kolivan you're not feeling well, go get you checked out super quick, maybe some vitamins-”

“S'fine,” Keith grunts, then coughs. “Just gimme a minute... it's been a few days of this, it'll pass.”

“Keith!” Matt squawks, scandalized and offended. “You didn't tell me you were sick! You have to tell me so I can love you better!”

“Didn't want you to worry.” Keith shrugs, but it's a halfhearted thing, and he slumps against Matt's side as he wipes his mouth. “You always worry about me.”

“You always make me worry,” Matt grumbles as he presses a kiss into Keith's sweaty hair. “If you just let me take care of you sometimes I won't have to worry so much.”

Keith's shoulders slump, and Matt knows he has him.

“Okay... yeah,” he sighs, throat obviously scratchy from the abuse. “We can go to the doctor... thank you Matt, I love you.”

“I love you too, Kitten.” Matt gathers him close, too relieved to be smug about out-stubborning his husband for once. “How about you brush your teeth and I'll get you some nice comfy clothes ready... we can even stop and get breakfast at the diner on the way back.”

Keith's smile is a wobbly thing, but it warms his heart as he nods into Matt's chest. They'll be fine, it's probably no more than a stomach bug, and soon they'll be back home snuggling until his big tough man feels better.

An hour later they are still no closer to getting greasy pancakes and snuggling in bed, and Keith appears to be rapidly losing his patience with sitting around being poked.

“I feel fine now,” he grumbles, rubbing at his arm where they've just taken another vial of blood as a precaution, “what the hell do they need all this shit for?”

“Maybe checking for galra bugs and human bugs?” Matt guesses, not winning himself any points if the scowl that crosses his husband's face is any indication.

“It can't be that bad if it goes away this fast... if they're not back with an answer in ten minutes I'm going back to work-”

“But you promised me breakfast and snuggles!” Matt pouts and clamps his arms around Keith's leg where it dangles off the examination table. “I was supposed to have the whole day after this to try to make you feel better.”

“You always make me feel better.” It's matter of fact, blunt almost, but the casual declaration carries enough affection to make Matt's heart swell, even without Keith meaning to at all.

“Well, then make _me_ feel better and take a day off... maybe you're just working yourself too hard and getting sick.”

“You're not far off the mark,” the galra doctor chimes in as she pushes into the room with a clipboard and a squeaking cart. “Keith here appears to be suffering from some simple dehydration and nausea – it'll pass as these things do, probably in a month or two.”

“A month?!” Matt gawks at the doctor like she's lost her mind. “What the fuck does he have – a massive tapeworm or something?”

“Or something.” The doctor nods, chuckling to herself as she plucks out one of the papers and hands it to Keith. “I'm surprised your symptoms have been this mild so far, but being only half galra may have helped you in this case.”

“Helped with what?” Matt presses, craning his neck to try to read the paper in Keith's hands, “Does he have the slipperies or something?”

The doctor's face goes through a complicated series of emotions as she chokes on what sounds like a poorly stifled bark of laughter. “No, Mr. Holt... Keith does not have the slipperies... that would be quite unlikely given his successful heat.”

It's the last straw in a long line of micro-irritations, and Keith's eyes flick up from the page, filled with fire.

“About that,” he grits out, wrinkling the paper in his grasp, “how the fuck does every single person we know _somehow_ know that Matt got a knot surgery... like, I take one fucking week of knots and all of a sudden these assholes are sniffing around like it was splatter paint night and I was the canvas. I've fucking showered so many times since then – I've tried scent blocking boxers, I've tried making him wear cargo shorts – which is _not_ a good look on anyone...” he shakes his head in disgust, the pent up fury from the past months boiling over, “I don't fucking get it... you can't even tell – no offense baby – but you can't! It doesn't look any bigger under clothes, I'm not walking funny or anything, did someone fucking tattoo 'I took my first knot' onto the back of my head or something?”

The doctor sits placidly through his tirade, eyebrows climbing higher and higher on her forehead until he pauses, heaving for breath next to his startled husband.

“Err... sorry...” Keith deflates almost immediately after catching sight of Matt's wide-eyed stare. “I didn't mean... I mean... I'm just... this _sucks._ ”

The doctor, bless her soul, only reaches forward to pat his hand with an understanding smile.

“It certainly can... especially in your case, as it seems you've been ah... feeling a bit in the dark?”

“Understatement of the century,” Matt mutters next to him, rubbing a circle into Keith's calf with his thumb. “Everyone has been so weird about it – and none of the literature said Keith might get sick from the knot...”

“None of it?” There's a twinkle in her eye. “He's actually experiencing one of the most common side effects.”

Matt feels his face fall, stricken as he looks up at Keith apologetically.

“Baby, I'm sorry-”

“I suggest you read your diagnosis, Keith,” the doctor cuts over him, still smiling, “it should answer a few of your questions.”

Keith cocks his head, but picks the paper back up, skimming it before stopping still. His eyes jump back to the top as he reads again, slower. “...what?”

“What is it?” Matt scoots closer, trying to catch sight of the words on the page as it tips from Keith's grasp.

“Morning sickness...” Keith laughs, just a touch hysterical. “I have morning sickness?”

The doctor beams. “A classic case – nothing more, nothing less... it should pass once you're well into your next quarter.”

“Morning sickness?” Matt squints at the paper, then up at his shell-shocked husband who has started to giggle. “Isn't that for like...”

“Pregnant people?” Keith finishes for him, nearly cackling now as he clutches at his stomach, “yeah, Matt, yeah it is.”

“Wait,” Matt squawks, flipping the paper over in confusion, but there's nothing on the back. “He's _pregnant_?”

“All the tests came back positive,” the doctor confirms, “congratulations, gentlemen.”

“Oh my god.... oh my _god_... Keith-” Matt leaps out of his little plastic chair to crush his husband in his arms, exam table be damned. “We're gonna be dads! We're gonna have a munchkin! They're gonna have your pretty face, I can already tell, and I'm going to love them so much, and I love _you_ so much, and-” he chokes off, tearing up as he sways them side to side on the crinkly paper. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Keith's laugh is wet in his shoulder as his own arms come up around Matt's back. “Shouldn't I be thanking you, Mr. Dick Surgery?”

“Oh my god,” Matt wheezes, pulling back to look at him in horror, “they all knew... they _all_ knew, this whole time... and I thought they meant-” he shakes his head, cringing so hard he feels like his skin is trying to turn inside-out, “-your _mom,_ Keith... _my_ mom! I thought they were talking about my _dick-_ ”

“Galra do have sensitive noses,” the doctor confirms, her own eyes looking suspiciously sparkly as she watches the happy couple celebrate, “I'm surprised you couldn't tell yourself, to be honest.”

Keith shakes his head at her with a shrug. “I don't know what I'm supposed to smell like, and lately everything just kinda smells like too much, honestly.” He flicks a glance over at Matt's pout. “Except you, of course... you smell delicious.”

“That would be the hormones,” the doctor chimes in, handing over the rest of the papers, “you can expect your territorial instincts to go into overdrive in the coming months. Having your mate's scent around will help ease the more primal urges, but it's recommended that you begin construction of your nest before you get too close to the due date to avoid unnecessary stress.”

“Extra snuggles, got it.” Matt nods, whipping out his tablet to take notes. “I'm going to buy you so many soft fluffy things.. you're going to have the best nest _ever_. Our kid is gonna be so comfy they won't even know what hit them... not that anything is ever going to hit them.”

He can already feel himself setting up plan Z for total galactic domination as a contingency to keep his husband and soon to be baby happy... just in case.

“Maybe I'll take that self-care day now,” Keith agrees, quirking a grin at him as he rubs at his back, “since I know that Shiro wasn't being a jerk with the lotion and bath bombs... oh my god, and _Kolivan_ \- Matt, those were actually for a baby!” He looks like he's torn between giggles and crying, which is utterly unacceptable. “And Regris and all the snacks he's been bringing me... I thought he was trying to fatten me up so I wouldn't beat his ass so badly-”

“We'll send them all a nice card or something... tell them we knew all along but were uh... keeping it a secret.”

The doctor snorts, covering her smile with a hand. “That is... unlikely to work. Children are considered a boon from the gods to the galra, particularly to a group as prone to loss as the Blade of Marmora.” She shakes her head, all polite and apologetic. “I'm afraid you may find yourselves a bit... _smothered_ , now that the cat is out of the bag, as the humans say.”

“Well...” Keith sighs and squeezes his husband's hand, leaning into the way Matt rubs at his stomach. “At least now I know why... I think maybe I could get used to some pampering, since it's not just for me.”

The words bury themselves into Matt's psyche, visions of Keith comfortable and snoozing on a pile of pillows as legions of his adoring fans peel him the finest grapes, rub his tender feet, and knit him tiny hats. If this is what it takes to make sure his husband is surrounded in bliss for the rest of his life...

They're gonna need to have a lot more kids.


End file.
